Nova Chrysalia: Memories of Chaos
by Jack Hargreave
Summary: The former director contemplates his life since the fall while hunting a prey in the wildlands of Nova Chrysalia. Or is he the prey who is being hunted? Even sorrow can cloud the brightest of minds. He is no different.


_**Hello, and welcome to my new story. **_

_**This is intended as a test of sorts for another story I'm making. It takes place sometime between FF XIII-2 and Lightning Returns. **_

_**I hope you like it, I'm not that good with English, so please excuse the glaring errors. I'll make sure I'll fix them as soon as possible.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy in any way. **_

**Memories of Chaos**

"_I know that I'm missing something._

_I can feel its presence in my head._

_It's there, like a forgotten dream._

_Imprinted with invisible ink. _

_It feels familiar and longing._

_Yet it eludes me in both shape and sound._

_What am I missing?_

_Who am I missing?"_

Hope Estheim

**Nova Crysalia**

**Wildlands**

**? AF**

Of all the things the world of Nova Chrysalia had in offer, time seemed to be the most common and worthless resources. The former director of the Academy had once considered time to be his most malicious opponent; no hourglass had infinite sand after all. He had pulled himself together many times, risen from the deep chasms of his own mind with newfound wood to fuel his convictions, with the knowledge that he had to do whatever was necessary until the day he finally would join his parents in the afterlife. A reunion which was long overdue…

The boy who once had feared death and believed the very thought of fighting against another human being was impossible… he was no longer there. What was left had to realize that things like a normal life was no longer an option for him. Forced or not, he had to make up for what he had done during the most terrible period of his life.

"_But it wasn't the worst period, was it?"_ a deep voice asked.

He couldn't deny that. It was the aftermath which was the worst. The realization that the life you had lived was gone forever. That you couldn't keep your old values and morals. That you lost something for every gain. That no one understood you. That you were truly alone.

He tried to cope with it and managed it gallantly after a while. But it had been hard at first. Everyone who still talked to him understood. His father, the teachers, Rygdea… the psychologist… they all understood that the events had left some scars. They understood for a while at least. But then it stopped. They didn't understand anymore. They wanted him to return, get himself back onto his feet and resume his life.

People are different, and there ways of coping with change and loss varies greatly from person to person. He managed it in a way he probably wouldn't have thought of if he had been left to his own devices. There had been someone back then who somehow managed to cheer people up in the direst situations… with a smile.

It took some practice, but that simple act started a spark which became a wildfire within his heart… it started his conviction; a conviction which he later would base his life around. He picked up the slate which had been given by his friends and started working… towards a better future.

There were times when he didn't know how many centuries it had been since then. It was irrelevant now, and so seemed his convictions at times. But he still kept moving forward, searching for a new path, and made new ones when he didn't find one. Other people would find them and follow them. _Just like before, history will repeat itself…_

The crack of thunder brought Hope back to reality. He was sitting against a tree, using the wide leaves and a torn coat to protect himself from a particularly nasty shower of rain. He hadn't thought of that possibility when he broke away from camp earlier the same morning. He had simply been too eager to take such things into consideration, and was now paying the price.

Hope snorted. _Look at me. I used to be a man with more power than anyone else. I gave directions and advice… and people heeded them. Now I'm cold and covering from the rain._

But that was nothing short of fair either. He had given some bad directions and advice, and everyone was paying for it.

A cold wind blew through the forest and sent chills through his wet clothes. Hope rubbed his hands against his shoulders and tried in vain to produce some warmth. The action made his right sleeve roll up a bit, revealing his bare arm. Most people would not take any notice beside the fact that he was paler than most people. But one with watchful eyes would notice the miss colored arteries on his lower arm. Jet black instead of bluish gray. _The reason why time always was my enemy… as well as my father's_, Hope thought bitterly.

Many things had slipped through his mind, but his father's death had been as painful to watch as his mother's. While Nora Estheim had died suddenly and painlessly, Bartholomew had not been as fortunate. The funder of the Academy had not passed away quickly; it had been a painful experience for both father and son. Hope knew that his father had been proud of his accomplishments during the years following the fall, but there had been disappointment in his eyes during his final moment. He never said anything, but Hope understood all too well. He had wanted Hope to move on before it was too late. He wanted his son to stop pursuing what had been and embrace the world they lived in. What remnants were left of the stubborn kid had refused listen to his words, fully knowing that such things would make others go through the same pain he had.

Hope had kept believing he could change the past, preventing the fall and saving every soul which was lost between the Purge and the Fall. It was a naïve dream, always present in the back of his mind. He knew it wouldn't remove the mental scars he had received, but it would absolve his sins.

Then Serah and Noel came. And with them the recording from the Oracle Drive of Cocoon crashing into Pulse. That had been the wakeup-call which would make him aware of his greatest challenge. He was forced to give up the past, to give up his parents. But it did motivate him to take the final step and do the necessary sacrifices. He could only regret that it hadn't ended up as he wanted it to.

Hope forced away the thoughts again and scouted the area surrounding him. Some people of the new world had adapted to the point where they could sense creatures infused with chaos approaching. Many of those were hunters and warriors, good to have around at times. But Hope knew any wild monster in the area would be the least of his worries. He wasn't here in the forest on some pleasure trip after all. He was still a man with a purpose, a man who would fulfill that until his dying breath.

_I promised after all. I can't back out now. _

There were times when he lost sight of who he was, what he had done and who he knew, and became as aware of the timelessness of the world as most of the citizens he had sworn to protect. It happened more and more frequently, and Hope feared it was just a matter of time before he would fall into the abyss of ignorance one final time and not return from its dark embrace.

"_Wouldn't that be better?"_ a dark voice asked him. A voice he knew all too well. _"Everything you stood for is gone. You are once again truly alone in the world. You fight against impossible odds. Wouldn't you prefer ignorance over pain? To be one with the world for once. You said it yourself; 'history will repeat itself.' Why do you constantly fight against it then? It's a never-ending cycle with nothing but pain and loss."_

"No", Hope shot back. The voice was in his head, but it wasn't spoken by his mind. It was the voice of the prey he was in the forest for. It was the voice of his pain and sorrow. It was his loss and death, misguided hatred and selfishness. It was his indifference and anger. It was lost fragments from his past.

It was the enemy he fought an invisible war against. His personal nemesis.

But he was safe for the moment. While he couldn't feel the creatures of chaos, he could feel the presence of the enemy. It was still away, lurking somewhere between the dark trees. Hiding and waiting for the perfect time to battle. But he wouldn't let it get any advantage. He hadn't chosen this spot randomly after all.

Still, it wouldn't attack during the rain. His enemy had a sense of honor and valued promises, a remnant from his father. They would face each other on equal ground when the time was perfect. Hope was secretly thankful for that, considering what this enemy wanted to accomplish.

A dark shade moved between the trees, and a weird sense of nostalgia washed through Hope. It felt familiar and alien at the same time. The shade was unimportant. The feeling was what was important. It reminded him of something… or someone. Yes, he was sure of that, and he or she had been important to him at some point of his life. He had felt it for the better part of his life and even made decisions based on that feeling… or rather what that person had expected him to do. But who was it? He knew it wasn't his parents or L'cie comrades. It didn't feel like them. It felt a bit like his enemy he supposed. It was a remnant of a lost past, but it lacked the same conviction he felt from his enemy. It had once been driven by survival… and was lost.

_Who are you?_

Another crack of thunder echoed in the air. Hope glanced up at the sky through the tree branches. The storm was about to pass, and the sun was about to make another push against the clouds' thick carpet of mist. The rain was slowly dying out. It was almost time.

Hope pulled the hood off from his head and started to unbutton the coat. It would be of little to none use for him in the coming minutes.

He stood up when the final drops of water gave way to fresh sunlight and withdrew his coat. One storm had passed, but he knew there was another one approaching. He had seen it in his dreams. And _someone_ would rise to fight it. But that was in the future. The present called for him.

"_Watch out!"_ a soft voice warned. It was soft and familiar.

The shade emerged into the small clearing, opposite from Hope. He saw it split, take four forms and brandish weapons. He slowly withdrew his boomerang and fell into his battle stance. The enemy did the same, identical with his own. Hope took one final breath and attacked.

_This is hope!_

_**So, what do you think?**_

_**Sorry once again for my English. But practice makes perfect, right?**_

_**Now, the story I'm working on is intended to work as a type of "DLC scenario" during Lightning Returns. It's intended as a side story of sorts in which Lightning and Hope will team up to take on a foe from the past.**_

_**The story will put a stain on their friendship and make them question the other's intentions, but may also make it more solid.**_

_**Cheers**_


End file.
